


The Invisible Corners

by Walutahanga



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation, Sedoretu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walutahanga/pseuds/Walutahanga
Summary: Padme is already engaged when Anakin meets her again in Attack of the Clones.Anakin's not sure what to make of any of it - not this Sedoretu business or Padme's fiancé who he'd really like to hate - but he'll go along with it for now.(Basically, Attack of the Clones with added Sedoretu).





	The Invisible Corners

**Author's Note:**

> If you're unfamiliar with the concept of Sedoretu, details can be found here: http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sedoretu. 
> 
> To give a brief summary, a Sedoretu marriage is are made up of four people. There must be one man and one woman of the Evening moiety, and one man and one woman of the Morning moiety. Members are expected to form sexual relationships with the opposite moiety while maintaining a platonic relationship with the person of their own moiety.

"My hand-fasted will meet us on Naboo," Padme says casually on the ship from Coruscant and Anakin's stomach drops.

"Hand-fasted?" he manages to say, hoping that it doesn't mean what he thinks it means.  

"Fiancé, I think is the closest Republic term. An informal commitment between lovers prior to marriage." 

"Oh." Mentally he berates himself for ever thinking that someone as wonderful as Padme would have remained single all these years. No wonder she rejected his advances. He must have made a complete idiot of himself. "I didn't know you were engaged."  

"Since I was nineteen." A small fond smile plays about Padme's lips, which _hurts_ to see. "We've kept it quiet. Naboo are discreet about hand-fastings but make up for it with our weddings. It's going to be huge."

Anakin couldn't care less about weddings. All he wants to do is retreat and lick his wounds in private.

"I'm sure he'll make you very happy," he says with an effort at gallantry.

"She," Padme corrects.

"She?" Now Anakin feels even more of an idiot. "I, um." He doesn't know what to say and desperately grabs at another conversational nicety: "When is the wedding?"

"We're not sure." A pensive frown creases Padme's forehead slightly. "We haven't found our Evening or Morning husbands yet." 

"What?" Now Anakin is thoroughly lost, and Padme's face softens in sympathy.

 "I'm sorry, I'm confusing you. I thought you understood. The Naboo people practice Sedoretu. Our marriages are made of up of four people; two men, and two women." 

" _Oh_."

Relief washes over Anakin. He's not personally familiar with polyamory - hasn't been on many planets that practise it - but he doesn't care, so long as Padme is still available to him. 

"So how does it work?" He asks. "Say, for example, if I were to marry you, I'd have to marry her as well?" 

Padme made a small face of disgust. "That's not quite how it works on Naboo. I am Evening moiety and she is Morning moiety. You cannot marry someone of the same moiety. That's-" She searches for a word, making a small gesture he recognises as the Naboo sign to ward off evil. "Blasphemy. Abomination. Any Morning man I marry will be forbidden to her. Any Evening man she marries will be forbidden to me. But I can marry her, and our husbands would also be married to each other. Understand?"

 "I think so." It's complicated, but not the worst arrangement Anakin's ever heard of. "How do you know who belongs to what moiety?" 

"Last names are generally a good indication. They pass along moiety-lines, not blood-lines, and most Naboo can recognise or look up their affiliation. To be on the safe side, we're also marked at birth." Padme tugs down her collar to show the small black outline of a crescent moon just above her collarbone. "Even children who are orphaned must be marked with their moisty, to avoid accidentally committing blasphemy."  

"Sounds complicated."

"It works for us." 

Anakin eats a piece of bread, thinking. It still sounds strange to him. He can't imagine ever sharing Padme with anyone.

* * *

Padme's hand-fasted is a tall, slim woman in the red leathers of Nubian military with her hair done up in braids. Anakin is prepared to hate her, but she smiles delightedly when Padme introduces him. 

"Little Ani? Look at you! You grew even more than I did!" 

Her warmth is a little off-putting from someone he intended to dislike.

"Have we met?" He says uncertainly.

"Years ago, during the Blockade." The woman glances fondly at Padme, sharing a smile that has the weight of memory behind it. "You may not remember, but Queen Amidala had a decoy-"

It all suddenly clicks together.

"I remember! You tried to talk to the Gungans and Padme had to step in." 

"That's right. And you were the podracer who won us the parts to fix our ship and destroyed the Trade Federation station." She clasps his hands in hers. "Naboo owes you a great debt, my friend." 

She's much taller now, but she still looks like Padme. Close enough to pass as sisters, even though Anakin loyally thought Padme was the prettier one. But there was a warmth in her gaze, an instant acceptance that soothed the ache of Padme's chilly reception.

"I'm sorry," he says guiltily. "I don't remember your name."  

"Sabe. It's alright. I don't expect you to remember after ten years. And it is a decoy's job not to be memorable."  

Back when he was a child, the Queen had been a remote, cold figure. Anakin had kept out of her way, somewhat intimidated by her deep voice and painted face that showed no expression. In hindsight that was probably deliberate, discouraging any scrutiny that might expose the ruse, especially from a nine year old boy who had no filter between his brain and his mouth. 

Now, Sabe seems even more removed from the Amidala persona than Padme is; warm and open, and not bothering to hide her joy at seeing him. Perhaps that's why she and Padme are together. Maybe they bring something out in each other that no one else can. 

Anakin begrudgingly decides that if Padme has to be engaged to someone, Sabe isn't too bad a choice. 

* * *

Anakin quickly works out there are both advantages and disadvantages to bringing Padme's hand-fasted along.

The advantage is that Padme seems to like dressing up for Sabe. If they're having afternoon tea on the terrace, she'll deck herself out in a gorgeous dress made of flimsy silk that leaves plenty of warm, smooth skin bare. If they're having dinner, she'll wear a tight black dress that covers everything and hides nothing. It's an exquisite kind of torture wondering what contraption she'll wear next.

The disadvantage is that Padme's attention isn't exclusively on him. Anakin can't really justify a private dinner or a romantic picnic when Padme's fiancé is standing right there. It's as good as a chaperone, and Anakin wonders resentfully if Obi-Wan had known this when he approved this mission. He remembers the small, amused smile his Master had been wearing when they left Coruscant and decides he must have. Jerk.

Worst of all, Sabe seems to genuinely like him, so Anakin can't rightfully dislike her as he wants to. They work together on security and she is ruthlessly dedicated to Padme's safety. Everything must be checked and triple-checked, and she'll rip into anyone who doesn't obey protocols. Once she leaves one of Padme's attendants in tears, which Padme is cross about, but Anakin finds himself agreeing with Sabe.

"If she can't do the job right, she shouldn't be here," he says and Padme glares at him.

"Tamaka has two children to feed."

"She can find another job. You won't be able to find another head if the Trade Federation blasts it off." 

It lands him in Padme's bad books for the afternoon, along with Sabe. The fiancé doesn't seem too upset about it, just shakes her head and tells Anakin. 

"She has a soft heart. Too soft sometimes. It will get her killed if she's not careful."

* * *

When Padme has gotten over her snit, she decides she and Sabe should go on one of the riverboats. Anakin is invited along, as their bodyguard.

The boat glides easily across the lake, light as the air. Anakin thinks he'd like to stay out here forever, floating between clear sky and glass-blue water. Padme has fallen asleep on one of the benches, her head pillowed in Sabe's lap.

"She stayed up all night searching the HoloNets," Sabe says. "Trying to find out how the vote was going." 

Truthfully Anakin had completely forgotten about the vote. Everything outside this small, safe place seems far away and unimportant.

"I'm sure it will be fine," he says. "Chancellor Palpatine will take care of things." 

Sabe nods. Her hair is loose today, arranged in some bizarrely elegant shape that she'd allowed Padme to do as penance for their earlier fight. Strands of brown hair, almost the exact shade of Padme's, flutter in the breeze.

"It's not for me, you know," she says.

"What isn't?"

"The clothes. Padme only dresses up when she's trying to impress someone, and she hasn't needed to impress me for years." Sabe meets Anakin's gaze significantly, and he can only manage to say: 

"Really? That's, um. I should..."

Sabe leans back, closing her eyes to enjoy the sunlight. "Outsiders can be adopted into moieties. Ask Padme about that tomorrow." 

* * *

With Sabe's subtle encouragement, Anakin's hopes don't seem so hopeless. He brings up the moiety question at dinner the next night, after Sabe's bowed out to go over security reports.

"It's not common," Padme says carefully in response. She's toying with her food, stirring her fork around her plate and not quite looking him in the eye. "Not many outsiders welcome our arrangements, finding them arbitrary and strange." 

"But it happens," Anakin persists.

"Yes."

"How does it work?" 

"You can't be adopted by a moiety unless you're planning to be married to a Naboo citizen. You have to be sponsored by your hand-fasted's other lover." 

"So if you and I were to be married, for example, Sabe would have to sponsor me into her moiety." 

"Into the Morning moiety, yes. There's a ceremony and a tattoo, and you're entered into the Naboo records. But it's permanent. If the marriage breaks down, and you meet another Naboo citizen you're attracted to, you can't switch moieties. That's the part most outsiders have trouble with." 

"Doesn't seem so bad. So long as you're planning to stay with the same person forever, it shouldn't be a big deal." He keeps looking at her until she returns his gaze. Resignation touches her features. 

"Anakin," she says quietly. "What are we doing?"  

"Don't you want to?" 

"Of course I-" She breaks off. "You're a Jedi. To marry me, you'd have to renounce your place in the Order. If I led a Jedi to forsake his vows, it would end my political career. It would destroy us both, not to mention Sabe and whatever other husband we brought into it."  

She's going to say no. Anakin can see it in her eyes.

"What if we kept it a secret?" He gropes desperately for an answer. "You said yourself, Naboo people are quiet about engagements, and we'd still need to find another man." 

It's the wrong thing to say.

"And that as well," she says relentlessly. "Do you even like men? You'd be married as much to him as Sabe would be. You wouldn't be able to hold yourself back, not if you wanted our marriage to work."  

"I could," he says gamely, not letting himself think about it.

"'Could' is not enough, not for Sedoretu." 

"So you're not even willing to try?" 

She looks away.

"I am," she says softly. "And that terrifies me."

* * *

Their peaceful reverie on Naboo is shattered with the return of Anakin's nightmares and his decision to go find his mother. Though Padme is the one who suggests accompanying him, it's Sabe who studies Anakin through her lashes and nods tightly to indicate her approval.

It's the moment he perceives just how tightly bound Padme and Sabe are, seeing them finally not as two individuals, but as two parts of a whole. Neither will move forward if both don't agree. It's also the uncomfortable moment when he realises that he couldn't have come as far as he had with Padme without Sabe's approval. That it had been a joint decision between them to invite him to Padme's bed.

What he can't figure out is _why_. Gratitude he could understand, or hero-worship. Even lust, if Sedoretu had worked in a way that would allow him and Sabe to sleep together as well. But none of these emotions are present in her.

Sabe catches him watching her on the way to Tatooine. "Something on your mind?" She says while Padme's in the cockpit, leaving them alone together.  

"Yeah. Why don't you care about what's going on between me and Padme?" 

"I care. Sedoretu is serious business."

"No one just hands their fiance over like that." 

Only his force-reflexes save him from the nasty kick she aims at his leg.

"That is _not_ what's going on, and if you have any respect you'll never speak of Sedoretu that way again." She shakes her head. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're not ready for this."  

"I'm ready," Anakin says, stung. It's too much like what Obi-Wan would say. "I just don't _understand_. What do you get out of it?" 

Sabe's eyebrows rise. "Maybe I just want Padme to have something pretty."

Anakin nearly buys it for a moment. Then he shakes his head.

"No. That's not how people work. You're getting something out of it too."

Sabe huffs and rolls her eyes. "The invisible corners of a marriage are just as important as the visible," she says, like it should mean something. Anakin's confusion must be apparent, because she adds more gently: "Whatever husband Padme chooses, it's equally important that I like him. He'll be my confident, my companion, my brother. I don't want just _anyone_." 

Anakin stares at her.

"Oh," he says, at a loss for anything else to say. Usually when people pick him for something, it's for his power or position. The Jedi Council were open about the fact they had never wanted him. Qui-Gon had been interested in the Chosen One, not the slave boy. Even Obi-Wan had only taken him to fulfil a promise. The only people who had ever been interested in him for himself were his mother, Padme and Chancellor Palpatine.

And now Sabe, who couldn't benefit from his status and didn't care about the Force. She wasn't even interested in him sexually. She simply liked him and thought he'd be good company. 

"Yes 'oh'," she echoes, mimicking him and raps him fondly on the head. "Bantha-brain,"

* * *

Tatooine is a nightmare. It's returning home to find things had gone both better than Anakin had hoped and worse than he dreaded. He returns to find his mother had been freed, just in time for her to die in his arms.

Geonosis is almost as bad, and Anakin finds time to be grateful that the chaos kept Obi-Wan from asking too many questions about what had happened on Tatooine or what he was doing with Padme and Sabe. Obi-Wan clearly suspects _something_ when Anakin insisted on escorting them home, despite the loss of his hand. He just as clearly doesn't know what it is, faint puzzlement in his gaze whenever he looks at the three of them.

He finally pulls Anakin aside just before they leave for Naboo. 

"Anakin, you do know that Senator Amidala is engaged to be married." 

"Yes," Anakin says. "To Sabe. She told me."

Obi-Wan seems relieved at that, but not entirely. "And you also understand that the polyamorous relationships of their world are complex and not entered into lightly, particularly off-worlders-"

"I know that too." Anakin looks into the distance and gives Obi-Wan a very careful version of the truth. "Padme was very clear that she'd never leave Sabe, and Sabe and I aren't attracted to each other. That's just how it is."  

If Obi-Wan had understood the rules of Sedoretu, this is when he'd call Anakin out on it. But he apparently doesn't, because he touches Anakin's shoulder and says gently:

"I am sorry, my Pa- Anakin. But it is for the best. If you left the Order-"

Anakin shrugs him off.

"I'm not leaving the Order," he says impatiently. "I don't need it rubbed in." 

"That's not what I'm trying to do." Obi-Wan paused and sighed. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry for your pain." 

Anakin is still annoyed, but Obi-Wan is clearly making an effort. Besides, Anakin is mature enough to feel a pang of guilt, knowing that in a few days he'll be flagrantly violating the Code that Obi-Wan loves so much.

"Thank you, Master," he says, with rather more warmth than he usually would. "But I'm alright, I promise. I just need a little time to settle things on Naboo."

Obi-Wan studies him with a small, sad smile.

"You _are_ ready to be a Knight." 

* * *

Sabe wonders if they're ready for this. 

It's perhaps not the best time to be thinking this, as she's tattooing the Morning insignia onto Anakin's collarbone. But the courtship had passed so quickly, this is the first real chance she's had to reflect.

She'd recognised Padme's attraction to Anakin as soon as they stepped off the shuttle onto Naboo. It had been a surprise, because it had been years since Padme was interested in a man. Or let herself act on that interest anyway. Politics didn't leave much time for romance and most off-worlders didn't understand Naboo customs surrounding marriage. A young, enthusiastic Jedi seemed a harmless enough diversion.

That, of course, was before Sabe realised that Padme's feelings went much deeper than infatuation and that Anakin was never going to settle for a temporary affair. She'd nearly warned him off, then and there, because the last thing Padme needed was a handful of forgotten promises and a broken heart.

Then Sabe and Anakin had taken the same rotation on watch on night. They'd ended up sitting in front of monitor screens, chatting idly over cups of kaf. He'd mentioned being a slave on Tatooine; something she'd been peripherally aware of but not really thought on. The way he spoke of it, she couldn't help but recall the abject poverty of her own childhood. He'd talked about Qui-Gon finding him, and she remembered the stark contrast of Panaka's shiny boots and rich red uniform against the mud flats of her family home.

Panaka had made her feel special too, had suggested some divine plan behind the pretty face that - like Anakin's force powers - was little more than a biological coincidence. He'd given her an education, taught her how to speak and dress and walk. And when the time came, he'd put a target on her back.

She's never quite been sure what to feel for Panaka. Anakin, she suspects, has the same ambiguity about the Jedi.

_He needs someone to look out for him,_ she'd thought, and that was when she decided. She wanted this man, for Padme and for herself. For Padme, a lover. For herself, a brother who could understand what it meant to go without, who knew the bitter taste of resentment that never quite went away no matter how many years of plenty came between. 

She still can't deny they're rushing things though. She and Padme had known each other for years before they decided to hand-fast. They've barely known Anakin two weeks. They don't know all the quirks of his character, nor he theirs. Not to mention whatever it is that happened on Tattooine that Anakin and Padme refuse to talk about. Sabe knows Padme wouldn't keep something truly important from her, but it still makes her uneasy in a way she can't quite define.

"Are we done?" Anakin asks, and Sabe shakes off her reverie.

"Almost." She inks in the final bit of skin. When she's done, a tiny black sun sits on his collar bone, a perfect match to hers. "There we go. You're my Morning brother now."

She has just enough time to put the needle down before he sweeps her into a hug. "You won't regret this," he says into her hair. "Either of you. I'm going to be the best husband ever. And the best brother too." 

In the face of his honest affection, all Sabe's concerns fade away like shadows disappearing before sunlight. They can make this work. Surely after all they've suffered, they can have this one selfish thing. 


End file.
